Loopy, Lonely and Lost

Posts Tagged ‘panic


Posted on: November 4, 2013

Another job has become available at my workplace. The day it was announced, my boss’s boss came up to me and asked if I’d seen it, if I was considering it, that she thought it would be a good move for me. My boss is determined to help me, mentioning it regularly, trying to help me make plans for the application, saying he’ll help where he can and get others to help me too. I feel like maybe this is more a sign he’s good at his job, than anything to do with my chances.

It is a good opportunity. Probably better than the other one I applied for so disastrously. But how am I supposed to apply? How am I supposed to go to an interview? Most days, simply saying, “I am good at A, B and C” is an impossible aim. I feel that I could do this job, although I don’t have all the requirements, but I don’t know how to express my suitability, or how to convince anyone to give me a chance. I usually just let my work do the talking, but that isn’t good enough in a situation like this.

The people I work with closely see something in me that isn’t really there – or, if it is there, it’s sullied by shyness and self-hatred.

I don’t know how to say no. What excuse can there be for not applying for a job I’d like to do? A job my superiors think I can do. A job involving more responsibility and more freedom and more money. A job opportunity that’s arisen only a couple of weeks after the company gave me an award, which has resulted in everybody at work knowing who I am and what I’ve achieved.

Talking of the award – it stares at me accusingly from across the room. The feeling of not deserving it, of not being worthy, is like a weight on my shoulders. I know I sound ungrateful but I can’t help but think a terrible mistake has been made. It can’t have been meant for me.

I feel pretty close to hurting myself. Something to balance out the undeserved reward. Something that would prove to me that I know what a fraud and a failure and a useless person I am. And if I could do something drastic, injure myself or make myself ill, so I could avoid work tomorrow, then all the better. Because I’ll get in and my boss will look up and give his hopeful smile and ask if I’ve thought about it, if I’ve printed off the job description and drafted the application, and I don’t know how to get out of it, or if I want to.

I don’t know how to explain that to apply for a promotion feels like arrogance. I don’t know how to explain that I feel completely worthless, and that some weird process in my brain means that praise only enhances that feeling. I don’t know how to explain the rushing of the blood round my body, the frantic thud of my heart and the lights that flash in my eyes when I think of doing this.

I really want to run away right now.

Things are going okay. I’m having snatches of my mood lifting…an hour or two here, an hour or two there. To be honest, most of the time I’m feeling reasonably cheerful. It’s interspersed with bursts of absolute panic re: everything but – horrible as those times are – at the moment, feeling okay is taking up more time.

I had another counselling appointment on Friday. If I’m being perfectly honest, it wasn’t particularly useful. I had a lot of difficulty understanding what she wanted me to talk about, and even more difficulty actually talking. I can’t find the proper words. Everything feels like either an understatement or an exaggeration, and I just sort of sit there, casting my mind around for something I can say without having to clarify it or follow it up with “…sometimes” or “I think” or “I’m not sure that makes any sense”. She keeps asking for explanations, too. That doesn’t particularly bother me – obviously it’s best if she actually understands what I’m talking about – but the more I try and fail to explain properly, the more frustrated I get with myself. It’s like there’s a brick wall in front of me every time I speak, or else a switch that flicks in my mind and stops my thoughts from reaching my mouth. When I speak to her, I feel more than ever like I’m being vague or making strange comparisons or just saying the wrong things in the wrong way…I listen to my words and I don’t think I‘d be able to get it, if I didn’t have access to my thoughts too.

I suppose she must be good at her job because, unlike with pretty much everyone I’ve ever tried to talk to about this, talking to her doesn’t immediately make me want to throw myself off a cliff. There’s only time for two more sessions, anyway, so I might as well keep going. I suspect that maybe it’s the fixed, short-term nature of the thing that stops me from panicking: it doesn’t matter what happens, because soon enough I’ll never see her again.

I went to my friend’s party on Saturday night, too. It went reasonably well. I was alright. I spoke and laughed and it was all okay, although I kept getting distracted by the sky (I don’t know what it is about night skies. They feel weirdly significant, and I tend to get lost in them easily). The people who were there who I knew already were lovely but kept asking where I’d been, why I hadn’t been in touch…why we hadn’t spoken for six months. I don’t know where that time has gone. It worries me that half a year can pass and I’ve done nothing and not contacted my friends and not really noticed anything. I worry that a whole lifetime could pass that way.

The people who were there who I didn’t know were a bit of a problem, too. Well, not a problem, as such. I just get annoyed when, within seconds of my reaching a place, people are grinning at me and laughing and talking at me in that way that feels like they’re prompting me, trying to get me to say something ridiculous. And then, a couple of hours later, they were listing the funny things I’d said (apparently several entries for their Quotes of the Day), and casually telling me I’m “a bit strange”, as if it’s a completely obvious and uncontroversial point. Don’t get me wrong, they were nice people. I just tire of everyone’s first impression of me being exactly the same (a friend once introduced me to his girlfriend as “Laura. She’s crazy”, and I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been introduced to friends of friends and they’ve raised an eyebrow and grinned and said, “yeah, I’ve heard all about you”, and later, “[our mutual friend] told me you’d be like this!”). I don’t even really understand why it happens. I mean, I’m not that weird, am I? There are definitely people weirder. It just saddens me a bit, and sometimes makes me feel more like¬†free (and slightly bewildered)¬†entertainment than a friend.

I am shit-scared.

Because, using my magical powers of deduction, I have just realised that I am going back to university tomorrow. Yes, it’s only 4am now, so I do actually have over 24 hours. But it’s still tomorrow.

And I have nothing packed. And I am so disorganised.

And I am just absolutely fucking terrified of this year.

I haven’t planned enough. I’m not in the right frame of mind to be meeting new people and trying to make them believe I’m nice, or at the very least, bearable. I haven’t done enough preparatory work for my course.

I’m just really, really not ready.

Fuck. Shitting, shitting fuck.

Today started off quite well.

I got out of bed, dressed, and went to my group meeting. We’re doing a presentation this week, and we spent an hour or so in the library, trying to sort it out.

Then I came back to my room and picked up my notebook. And right there, on the first page, was… Read the rest of this entry »

If, for the past few days, I’ve been walking – and occasionally skipping – on nice, happy, level ground, then this evening represents falling through a trap-door. Read the rest of this entry »


My name is Laura. I was once told that I have cyclothymia. This blog is mostly where I write about living as a person with extremes and instability of mood, and the history of a life that led to the development of those symptoms.

I complain a lot, I'm very repetitive, unreliable, and I tend to contradict myself.

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